Hands to Heaven
by Court
Summary: Robin remembers the night her child was conceived. SCRUBS


Title: Hands To Heaven

Author: Court

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Oneshot. Robin remembers the night her child was conceived.

Song Credit: "Hands to Heaven" by Breathe. What can I say - I'm a true 80's child, through and through. :lol:

--

She woke up alone. It was a rare thing nowadays, as it had become a regular occurrence for her to smile before her eyes even opened, at the warm, tingly feel of his breath against her cheek, or in her ear...the heavy, yet comforting weight of his arm around her body, holding her tight, safe, secure. She could no longer sleep without him, and reckoned that was the very reason why she was fully alert at the break of dawn. But even though her body craved his nearness, her mind reassured her to his exact whereabouts; odds were, if he wasn't in their bed, he was in the room down the hall. In fact, she knew he was there. It was quite evident by the familiar snore seeping through the monitor on her nightstand.

Chuckling fondly at the sound she'd come to think of as oddly adorable, Robin rolls to her feet, fumbling around the darkened room for something to slip on hours after being undressed and made love to by the incredibly handsome doctor she had come to know as the love of her life. Squinting at the sight of something draped over the back of the chair beside the door, she soon recognizes it as the top half of one of his pajama sets that she had been wearing the previous evening. Pulling it on, she carelessly fastens the buttons, missing one or two along the way, and steps out into the hallway.

The sun had begun to rise and the light of the morning made its appearance through the sheer white curtains of the room as she entered through the open doorway. And for all the cities, all the places, all the wonders of the world she had seen - there was nothing comparable, or more beautiful to her than the sight before her now, even though it wasn't the first time she had witnessed it. Nothing had ever touched her heart, moved her in places she never even knew existed more than the image of the two most important people in her life together this way...innocent. Oblivious. In love. Sitting in the chair his mother had once rocked him in as a baby himself, was a shirtless, slightly rumpled and completely sexy Patrick Drake clutching on to his baby girl, cuddling her close to his chest. Ava Noelle was six months old, and had already managed to wrap her father around her itty bitty finger. She was most definitely Daddy's girl.

Leaning against the doorframe, she smiles, attempting to memorize every detail of this moment, in the silent still of the hour. It was all so very precious, and neither knew when it would come to its inevitable end, as everything did in the space of time. Life wouldn't go on forever...she had a daily reminder of that. But she had learned somewhere along the way that knowing that, embracing that fact only made life more worthwhile. It made looking at the man she loves and the child they made together breathtaking...a wondrous mark on her heart that would stay with her until she drew her last breath. The very reason she chooses to fight and kick fear's ass to the curb, because deep down she knows that a life without love is no life at all.

It was all common sense really. Unfortunately, life had taught her not to trust that easily. And as a result, she had pushed Patrick away more times than she could possibly count over the past three and a half years; they both had. It was time lost, wasted that they could never get back and strived to make up for now. They were a part of each other, and it would always be that way. Forever. She had loved him for an unknown amount of time...the exact time, the exact moment was unclear to her...perhaps it was a culmination of moments...words...little by little, day by day. She had never fought with someone so much, but she had never loved anyone so deeply. The passion, the connection she felt with him was so intense it scared her, shook her to her very core. And even in the time when she told him to stay away as well as herself...she couldn't. When she was at her highest, her lowest...and everywhere in between, she yearned to share it with him...only him. He was the safety she had longed for all her life. It was her truth, and it had been since the moment she met him. That strong pull knew of no resistance...demanded to keep him close to her. After all, that's how they got where they are now...

_**December 2007...**_

**_As I watch you move, across the moonlit room_**

**_There's so much tenderness in your loving_**

**_Tomorrow I must leave, the dawn knows no reprieve_**

**_God give me strength when I am leaving..._**

_The first touch of their lips had been innocent enough, but that's all it ever really took to set them off anyway. While there were tender aspects to the attraction they felt for one another, there was an obvious raw, animalistic need that existed between them as well; time apart had only fueled the fire and what started off as a gentle brush of lips soon escalated to wet, opened mouthed kisses. It was a feeling that surpassed need, and bordered on desperation. The last night...the last time. They both knew it. The circumstances didn't matter, because there was more to it than just coping with the loss of a loved one. It was a plea from one heart to another, begging for the chance to pretend the world was perfect and their love could really make everything else melt away. And tomorrow...well, tomorrow was another day._

_They were so immersed with one another she assumed it would all end with them half dressed on the floor of his living room or against the wall, but then...then he surprised her. Tearing his mouth away from hers in a sudden movement, he whispered thickly, "No...not like this. It...has to...last."_

_"Yes," she nodded, her arms tightening around his neck instinctively, like it hadn't been months ago since she had been this close to him. She couldn't stop from touching him, and she didn't want to._

_"We have all night...I want..." Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against hers. "I want to be with you...all night..."_

_"Patrick..." she breathes his name on a sigh, tears hot against her cheeks._

_"Stay with me, Robin...please...I miss you so damned much -"_

_"No talking," she insists, cutting him off with a kiss. She wanted to hear it, but she couldn't bear it all the same. How could loving someone hurt this badly? Why? It wasn't fair. None of this was. "I don't want to think anymore, Patrick. I just want to feel...make me forget, please...make it all go away...please...please..."_

**_So raise your hands to heaven and pray_**

**_That we'll be back together someday_**

**_Tonight, I need your sweet caress_**

**_Hold me in the darkness_**

**_Tonight, you calm my restlessness_**

_**You relieve my sadness**_

_Sobs wracked her body and in an instant, he had her swept off her feet, her body draped across his arms in a protective hold. Their eyes locked, held...and her heart stopped. There was too much beauty there...on his face...in his eyes...such reverence. Love. But it wasn't real...not in their reality. She was merely Cinderella in the arms of her prince, and when the clock struck midnight the dream, the fantasy would come to an end. He was no longer hers...she was no longer his. Fate had decided happily ever after wasn't in the cards for them. But still, she allowed herself to go on...pretend just a while longer._

_In the bedroom, standing merely inches apart, they undressed one another. Layers of clothing fell to the ground unhurriedly, their eyes never leaving each other. And when at last the final garment made its descent, they kissed again...slowly...expertly...the mating of two lovers that were destined to be united...made for each other. It was home. Tongues teased, tangled...caressed. When they fell into a twisted heap of limbs atop the bedding, they gasped for air...almost as if they needed each other to keep breathing. It was absurd, but at the time...in that moment...it seemed to be quite true._

_The mattress springs creaked beneath them as they rolled about together, making a disastrous mess of the covers, effectively shoving them to the floor amidst their fervored movements. Skin slapped skin...hands wandered of their own volition, lingering in some places longer than others...everywhere, all at once it seemed...hushed whispers mixed with moans and labored breathing...a mindless, astounding pleasure they had only endured with each other. Their physical chemistry simply could not be denied, but it was more than that. It was the ability to look...see...feel his very soul...all the while knowing he could do the very same thing when they were together this way._

**_As we move to embrace, tears run down your face_**

**_I whisper words of love, so softly_**

**_I can't believe this pain, it's driving me insane_**

**_Without your touch, life will be lonely_**

**_So raise your hands to heaven and pray_**

_**That we'll be back together someday**_

_In those phenomenal, bittersweet moments when he was moving inside of her, she dug her fingertips into his shoulders, arms and back...holding on for dear life. She didn't want it to end. Ever. Shivering around him, her body cradling his, she wept...misery and bliss unfolding inside her heart...powerless to do anything but let him love her the way she needed him to. And when she thought it was over, it kept going...he kept moving...giving more and more of himself to her until they both were completely and utterly spent._

_Turned into each other, they rested on their sides, her hand on his cheek...his hand on her wrist. At one time they would have laughed or teased one another, but not then. The afterglow was tainted by worry, doubt...hopelessness. Still, there were no regrets. When he told her he loved her, she replied in kind. And the last image she had of him was his eyes clouded over with something she had misconstrued as sadness, but would later come to remember as fear._

**_Morning has come, another day_**

**_I must pack my bags and say goodbye_**

**_Tonight, I need your sweet caress_**

**_Hold me in the darkness_**

**_Tonight, you calm my restlessness_**

_**You relieve my sadness**_

**_end flashback_**

That night had changed the course of their lives. As it turned out, fate actually did have some outrageous plan to keep them together. It had been a long, frustrating road, but the rewards made it all worth it. To have this life, to be happy and together - to prove to their loved ones that they could rise above the way of life they were shown as children and do better for their own was a blessing. The opportunity in itself was more than she could have ever hoped for. She was living the life she had forbid herself to dream of after finding out the hard way that love could very well end with your heart shattered in a million tiny pieces with no one but yourself to deal with the wreckage. But Patrick taught her that new beginnings were possible. Change was possible. And he had not only given her the greatest gift of all in their sweet baby, but in fighting for her instead of leaving her, even when she all but shoved him out the door. He saved her, and opened her mind, her heart to new and miraculous possibilities.

"See something you like?" Patrick drawls suddenly, startling her from her dispersed thoughts.

"Maybe," Robin purrs back, her voice low so not to wake the baby.

They exchange a smile from their respective places across the nursery before he rises and walks over to the crib. Placing the softest of kisses to her head, he holds on a little while longer, not quite ready to let go of his sleeping angel. Robin's heart thuds rapidly against her chest at the simple action, and she finds herself falling deeper in love with him, as she did everyday. Absentmindedly, she drifts closer to him, curling her arms around his lean form just as he places the baby down. Tracing imaginary patterns along his stomach, she nuzzles the bare skin of his back and whispers, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispers back, taking her left hand and tugging her around to face him, his lips brushing against her knuckles like a spring breeze to the petals of a flower. The light catches the radiant cuts of her diamond in that moment, and against the brilliant shine, he looks at her through his thick, dark lashes and repeats, "love you, love you..."

Folding her in his arms, they simultaneously turn their heads to look down at Ava, her auburn hair like her mother's...dimple like her father's. "She really is the most amazing thing..."

Humming in agreement, Patrick adds, "She's perfect...I still can't believe we made her..."

"Mr. Ego can't believe he had a hand in creating something perfect? You continue to surprise me, Dr. Drake," Robin teases, biting down on her lip to keep from squealing when he swats her soundly on her behind. Poking him in the chest, she whispers harshly, "Hey, buddy! You're going to wake the baby!"

"You started it!"

"Shh - hey -" Robin gasps, rendered speechless when he hikes her up and over his shoulder before she can finish scolding him.

Unable to resist the urge to retaliate, she gives him a good pinch on the ass, causing him to growl like a caveman and haul them even faster out of the room. Clicking the door ever so softly behind them, Robin wastes no time in going after what she wants, even from her rather peculiar position. "Patrick?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Make me breakfast."

"You don't want to go back to bed?"

He sounded almost crushed and Robin had to laugh. "I'm hungry!"

"So am I!"

"For FOOD, Patrick!"

"How about breakfast in bed - after we play?"

"We played last night! I want french toast!"

"That was hours ago! I want you now!"

"And I want food now! Stop being such a baby and for the love of God, put me down!"

"This is a one stop train and it's headed towards the bedroom, sweetheart!"

"Well, I didn't voluntarily get on it! So, let me off!"

"Did you say 'get me off'? That's so hot!"

"No, you pig! I said LET me off! NOW, Patrick!"

Even though she was half laughing when she said it, something in her tone must have scared him, because he stopped short of their bedroom and helped her to her feet. When he reaches for her, she turns away and stomps toward the staircase.

"Robin!"

"Go back to bed, Patrick!"

"Don't be mad, baby!" He calls out after her, following in line as she makes a swift exit from the top floor of their house towards the bottom. "I was only kidding!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Don't be a brat!"

At the foot of the staircase, she turns back and glares at him. "You're really not winning yourself any points here, mister!"

Acting quickly, he snatches her up by her waist and holds her up so they're chest to chest, face to face. "Forgive me. You know you want to."

Rolling her eyes, she sets her jaw defiantly and replies, "No, I don't."

Moving them into the living room, he falls back onto the couch, taking her with him. "Yes, you do. So tell me, and then we'll go into the kitchen and I'll make you my famous french toast, just how you like it."

"Nope," she shakes her head, a tiny smile on her lips. It was the dimple. It got her everytime.

"Say it," he persists, one of his hands moving up her body and tangling in her hair, pulling her mouth down to his.

"Okay," she mumbles, no longer caring about anything but feeling his lips moving over hers, tasting him. It was a sweet kiss, but the earth still moved. Always.

"I can't help it if I want you all the time, you know. Everything about you...the way you glide across a room...the way you look at me...love me...nothing has ever gotten to me like you do, Robin. You're not just beautiful or sexy...you're more. The feelings that you stir up in me...they're beyond words. Reason. And I just want to show you in the best way I know how...all the time."

"You do," she whispers, running her thumb across the seam of his lips.

Nipping her thumb with his teeth, he soothes it with the tip of his tongue. "I don't deserve you...all this..."

"Of course you do. We both deserve it, Patrick. You taught me that better than anyone. We've been hurt...we even hurt each other...but now, now it's our turn. We don't have to worry about anyone's happiness but our own. And maybe that's selfish, but it's been a long time coming."

"Yeah," he nods, "But I'm grateful. I realize how lucky I am, and I want you to know that."

"I know you love me. And I know that Ava is the most important thing in your life."

Not very long ago, he had said something similar to her regarding her father. The answer she gave him was now one he could relate to himself. "Tie for first," he tells her fondly, grinning like the fool in love he very much was.

"Get your own lines," she jokes, closing her eyes as he zeros in for another kiss.

"Oh, you love it, baby," he mutters against her lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth, massaging hers in a sultry move that gives her goosebumps all over.

"Mmmm..." Allowing herself to get caught up for a moment, she soon untangles herself from his embrace and leaps off the couch. Running towards the kitchen, she calls out. "Breakfast, Patrick!"

He groans in response, but soon, ever begrudgingly, gives into her demands and heads into the kitchen as well.

* * *

"This is SO GOOD!" Robin moans, taking the last bite of toast from the fork extended to her by the hand of the chef himself.

Dropping the fork back onto the plate, Patrick quirks an eyebrow at her. "Better than sex?"

Licking the syrup from the corner of her lip, she considers the question. "Um...tie for first?"

Patrick's mouth drops open and he growls. "You really are a brat, Robin Scorpio-Drake!"

"AHH!" Robin shrieks, helpless to do anything as he begins to tickle her. "I'm kidding! Stop! Patrick, please! Pleeeeeeeease!"

"I will, but you have to promise to make it up to me."

Squirming on his lap, she cries. "I promise! I promise!"

"Say uncle!"

"Uncle! Uncle!"

"Okay," he drawls dangerously, nibbling on her earlobe as he speaks. "What'll it be?"

Distractedly, she answers. "Well...since you cooked, I can do the dishes..."

"Uh, not what I had in mind -"

Moving to straddle his lap, she giggles as he blows in her ear. "Then what?"

Kissing his way from her ear, along her jaw to the column of her throat, he nuzzles her collarbone. "I want my shirt back."

"You want THIS shirt back? But then I'll be naked," she mocks, her voice anything but innocent.

"Naked is good," he husks against her mouth, his breath hot and his voice sexy, demanding. Pulling her hips more fully against his, he leaves one hand at her side, moving the other to the first button, popping it open without ever taking his eyes off of hers. But just as he stands to carry her back to the couch, a cry fills the room. Halting in their movements, they both stare at the monitor on the counter top in bewilderment. Wordlessly, he sets her to her feet and runs a hand over his face in frustration. And she didn't look any happier.

"Tonight," she reassures him, squeezing his hand.

"Can't wait," he smiles, pressing a kiss to her hand before leading them up the stairs.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Robin and Patrick sit on their couch with Ava between them. Father and daughter are dressed alike in NASCAR gear, eyes fixated on the television, while Robin has settled on sweats and a crossword puzzle. Every once in a while Robin looks over at them, because they're just too adorable not to. They made quite the pair, Patrick screaming in excitement or explaining the rules of the sport to Ava like she really could understand him, their little muffin babbling nonsense in response to her father's own drivel.

"You know baby girl, if your daddy had it his way, your name would be Dale. What do you think about that?" Ava looked up at her mother with a silly smile, and blew a raspberry. "Yeah, give it a few years, kiddo. You might change your mind."

Patrick pretends to be offended. "Hey! Dale is a great name. And when we have a son, it's back on the table."

As of the past year, it wasn't anything new for Patrick to talk this way, but sometimes she still found herself getting choked up about it. Biting her lip, she shakes her head at her husband, amused that he expected to be taken seriously when he was spouting stuff about naming their child Dale - while wearing a NASCAR cap, backwards - like a seventeen year old boy - no less. "Whatever you say, husband. When the time comes, we'll see who wins this argument - again."

"Well now that there's three of us, there's another vote to be had. And just look at

her - it's no contest, baby. Two against one, wife."

"Keep telling yourself that, babe."

Patting his daughter on the head, Patrick winks. "The next famous female NASCAR driver is sitting right here and it won't take much convincing to sell her on the name Dale."

Dropping her puzzle book on the coffee table soundly, she sits up straight and narrows her eyes at him, half joking, half serious. "I swear to you, if our little girl's first word is 'NASCAR', 'Dale', 'racecar' or 'pit stop' you will be sleeping on THIS couch indefinitely," Robin warns him, pointing her finger as she does.

"You're so hot when you're bossy!"

Tossing her head back onto the back of the couch with a thump, Robin groans. "You're impossible!"

"Is that why I woke up to you staring at me like you couldn't wait to have your way with me?"

"Don't say things like that around the baby, Patrick!"

"Oh please! She doesn't know what s-e-x is and she won't until she's at least thirty or forty years old!"

Giving him her best 'bitch please' look, she shakes her head. "Thirty or forty?"

"I haven't decided yet." Robin blinks at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Anyway, back to this morning - what were you thinking about anyway?"

"The past," she answers softly, her eyes falling on Ava, then moving back up to him.

"What about it?"

"The night that we made Ava. After Georgie's funeral."

Patrick looks surprised, and his expression turns serious. "What made you think about that?"

"I was just thinking about how we got here...how that night brought us here, even though we never would have guessed it back then."

"Tell me about it."

"I was so sad, and I just wanted to be with you. I didn't even have to think about it...I got in my car and the next thing I knew, I was at your apartment. And you gave me exactly what I needed. Even more than I realized at the time. You made me feel loved, and you gave me Ava. And I am SO glad that you did, Patrick. You have no idea how grateful I am that I did go to you that night, that you didn't turn me away...that you're Ava's father...and now...my husband. It's more than a dream come true, because I never let myself go there. I didn't think it was possible. But it is, and we're here and I just...I just have to stop and pinch myself sometimes, I guess."

"It's all real, Robin. All of it. We're a family. And I will NEVER leave you. Or Ava. Ever."

"I know."

"I'm proud to be your husband. And like you said, I never let my mind go to this place, either. I fall asleep and wake up with you in my arms everyday and it's perfect. I wake up in the middle of the night and rock Ava in the rocking chair my grandfather made for my mother and I remember bits and pieces of the life my parents gave me back then...how they loved each other...me." Pausing, he licks his lips, chuckling at a memory of a time not so long ago. "Did you know that when my dad gave us that thing I spent half the night sitting in it, thinking about my mother? How I wished she could be here to meet you and Ava and see what kind of man she raised? They were like us, you know...and I see you looking at me the way she looked at him and I feel like she's watching over us. Like she had a hand in making all of this happen. Like I told you when we were first falling in love...she never let me get away with anything. But she wanted this. And now, it's mine. It's ours. Is that crazy?"

"No, no...it's not crazy at all, Patrick. I told Maxie once that I think Georgie had a hand in bringing Ava into our lives. I believe it...in things like that...with all my heart. I do."

Reaching out, he trails a lazy finger down her cheek. "I guess that makes us pretty perfect for each other, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I really want to kiss you right now, Mrs. Drake."

"What's stopping you, Mr. Drake?"

Gesturing towards Ava, he teases her. "Well, we wouldn't want to traumatize the kid."

"Well maybe we can be one of those parents that grosses their kids out because we make out all the time," she chides, a naughty gleam in her eyes.

"I think you've been hanging around me too much, baby," he laughs.

"Is that a complaint?"

"Hell no!"

"Patrick?"

"Robin?"

"Kiss me."

And he did.

* * *

**THE END**

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *


End file.
